The Farafina Creative Writing Workshop

(Photo by Okey Adichie) Participants from left to right: Mona Zutshi Opubor, Senan Murray, Kechi Nomu, Francesca Onomarie Uriri, Richard Ali, Mazi Chiagozie F Nwonwu, Abdulaziz Abdulaziz, Nana Sekyiamah, Monique Kwachou, Gbenga Awomodu, Yewande Omotoso, Chika Oduah, Ese Lerato Emuwa, Yemisi Ogbe, Efembe Eke, Nasir Yammama, Samuel Kolawole, Martin Chinagorom, Kanife Kanamuo Machienti (not included in the photo: Namdi Awa-Kalu).

Guest Post by Yewande Omotoso

If someone told me when I was five or fifteen that at thirty-two I would sit in an air-conditioned room in Lagos, on Victoria Island, with a woman named Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and twenty other writers and I would sit for nine days and we would all talk about writing, our own writing and the writing of others, that there would grow a soft place inside me for all the participants and organisers of this strange meeting, that the meeting would come to an end but actually that things like this never end. If someone had tried to convince me of this it would all have sounded rather unlikely. I guess when I was five Chimamanda wasn’t yet Chimamanda the acclaimed author and Farafina did not have a workshop in its name; there was no Farafina, not yet. Continue reading